Текст книги "A Summer Smile "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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His lips twisted. "You're very generous, but I was "here, remember? I made a mistake, and I'm just lucky you don't hate my guts." He glanced up at her, a grave expression on his face. "I don't know much about finesse, but I do know about friendship. I'll make you a good friend if you'll let me." His voice was gruff. "I don't have many real friends. It meant a hell of a lot to me when you said you wanted my friendship. I hope the offer still stands."

"It still stands," she said softly. It wasn't what she had hoped for but it was better than nothing. If she worked hard at making that friendship beautiful, :t might even be enough. She should know by now that life seldom handed out any prizes. "I'll make you a good friend too, Daniel."

"I know you will." Still holding her gaze with his, he lifted her left palm to his lips and pressed his lips

to it gently. "You're a special lady, old friend." He carefully lowered her hand to the bed, as if it were very fragile and might shatter. "Now, what game do you want to play? I brought Trivial Pursuit, Monopoly, and checkers." He was leaning over her, reaching for the pile of boxes he had tossed on her bed.

"It doesn't matter. Anything you like." Her attention had been caught by a long, jagged scar on Daniel's left thigh. It started above his knee and disappeared beneath the frayed edge of his cutoff jeans. "Where did you get that?"

"What?"

Her finger began to trace the puckered scar. He flinched as if she'd burned him. Her eyes flew to his face. "Is it still tender?"

He shook his head. "You just surprised me." His voice was gritty. "It's an old knife wound. I got it years ago."

Her fingers followed the path of the scar up his thigh. "It looks as though it was very deep." His thigh was so hard and muscular. It was growing even harder under her stroking finger. Was the memory of how he had received that wound causing the tension she felt in him? "Has it healed properly?"

"I think so. It hasn't bothered me since then." The muscles of his thigh were becoming knotted with tension. "Until now."

"Now?" she asked. "Perhaps carrying me all that distance..."

"No." He suddenly brushed her hand away and jumped to his feet. "It's fine. Would you like to see the stables and the obstacle course?"

Her eyes widened. "I thought you said we were playing games today."

"I changed my mind," he said through his teeth. "I'm not up to a long, intimate game of Monopoly today. We've got to get out of here." He disappeared

into the bathroom and returned with a small portable dryer. He handed it to her. "Blow your hair dry while I hustle the servants to bring the rest of your wardrobe. I particularly specified sports clothes. I hope to heaven they sent jeans and not bikinis. Philip's women usually aren't into sports activity outside of the bedroom."

"But you said I was too weak to tour the stables today."

"You are. I'll carry you."

"But that's ridiculous. I can wa—"

His hand covered her lips. "Zilah, stop arguing." Suddenly he smiled with such warmth that it took her breath away. "Friends have to compromise. I'm giving you what you want, aren't I? Now you have to yield an inch or two as well."

She would have given him anything he wanted to keep him smiling at her with that roguish sweetness.

She kissed his palm as gently as he had her own a moment before. "Okay," she said softly. "An inch or so won't hurt me. But only for today, Daniel."

"Only for today." He turned away and headed swiftly toward the door. "We'll take it one day at a me."

Six

Daniel lifted Zilah easily to the top rail of the white wooden fence that separated the stableyard from the pasture. "There, you can have a bird's-eye view and still not get in the way of the grooms who are exercising horses. In the morning the stable area has a tendency to get as busy as Churchill Downs before the Kentucky Derby."

Zilah swung her leg over the rail to straddle it. Her gaze traveled eagerly over the long, low stable that was as spotless as the grounds themselves, and then crossed the fence to the lush green of the pasture, which contained a variety of obstacle jumps. "I can see that. What a wonderful place. It reminds me a little of a picture of the Calumet stables I've seen."

"It should," Daniel said dryly. "Philip's father sent a trainer to Calumet to study methods and architecture before having this stable built. Nothing but the best for his only son." He leaned lazily against the fence and lit a cigarette. He blew a thin stream of smoke into the air before studying her with narrowed eyes. "You seem to have livened up a bit. You were very quiet on the way from the house." He looked down at the tip of his cigarette. "Did you get through to your mother?"

The smile faded from her face. "Yes." She looked out at the obstacle course where a groom, who looked little more than a child, was fighting a huge black stallion for control. Despite his size, the boy seemed to be a fine horseman, she thought. "She was very happy. She said she looked forward to seeing me soon." The words were stilted. "She cried."

"That must have been upsetting for you," Daniel said gently. "Are you close?"

"We used to be." She shifted restlessly. "It's been a long time since we've seen each other." She was silent a moment before she spoke again. "She's uncomfortable around me now. I think she still feels a sense of guilt."

"Guilt? Why should she feel guilty?"

"She shouldn't. I tried to tell her that." Zilah's ands clenched unconsciously on the rail. "She blames herself for my . . . illness, for leaving me with

grandmother while she was working. That's one of the reasons I came back to Sedikhan. No one should have to live with guilt like that. I wanted to show her that I'm well and happy now."

"And are you?"

She lifted her chin. "Of course." Her gaze

returned again to the boy on the black horse. "Look, he's going to jump him." She frowned. "Aren't the bars awfully high? That must be a six-foot jump."

Daniel's eyes hadn't left her face. "All of Philip's grooms are very competent. You don't have to worry about him."

"He doesn't look old enough to be that competent. He can't be more than eleven or twelve."

His head turned casually to glance out at the pasture. He muttered a low curse, tossed his cigarette to the ground, and crushed it beneath the heel of his boot. He was up on the rail beside her with one swift movement. "Pandora. Philip's going to murder her."

"That's a distinct possibility," Philip El Kabbar said grimly as he joined them on the bar. He had changed to tan riding pants and a white shirt. His worn black boots were of the finest leather, and he looked even more intimidating than he had earlier this morning. "If she doesn't kill herself first."

"Pandora? That's a girl?" Zilah asked, surprised. The slight figure in the black ribbed sweater and frayed jeans appeared to be both wiry and strong. The gray cap pulled down over her eyes completely hid her hair and shadowed her face. It was no wonder Zilah had mistaken her for a boy.

"Her gender is debatable," El Kabbar said. "She doesn't recognize the fact that she's female as yet. She knows only she's either going to win the Olympics or be the greatest jockey since Willie Shoemaker. She hasn't decided which choice will win her ultimate approval."

"Pandora Madchen," Daniel supplied. "She's the daughter of Karl Madchen, the doctor Philip imported to set up a dispensary here at the compound."

"Correction. She's the devil's daughter," the sheikh said. His eyes were narrowed intently on the small figure bent low over the horse's neck as she urged him toward the jump. "The gypsies must have left her."

"Are you going to try to stop her?" Daniel asked curiously. "That's Oedipus, isn't it? I thought you forbade her to ride him."

"I did. But it's too late to stop the jump. If I go out there and try to drag her off now, I'd probably spook him." El Kabbar's eyes were turquoise flints in his set face. "I'll have to wait until she makes the jump and brings him around."

Zilah shivered. El Kabbar's anger was all the more intimidating for its leashed menace. "She's only a child," she offered tentatively.

"She's fifteen, Miss Dabala," El Kabbar said without shifting his eyes from the girl on the horse. "Old enough to obey orders, if not to have a modicum of common sense. One or the other is mandatory here at the stable."

The black stallion's muscles were gathering for the jump, sinews tense and ready. Then he was rising in the air and floating over the jump as if it were three feet instead of six. He landed on the other side with faultless precision.

"Beautiful," Zilah breathed. "She's a magnificent horsewoman, isn't she?"

"The best I've ever known," Philip said. "And the most foolhardy." He jumped down from the fence into the pasture. "I'd suggest you take Miss Dabala back to the house, Daniel. I haven't decided what form Pandora's punishment is going to take, but I just may beat her bottom until she can't sit down." He cast a twisted smile over his shoulder. "I wouldn't want to offend our guest's tender sensibilities."

Zilah watched him stride swiftly toward the girl, who sat waiting across the pasture, her body language practically shouting defiance. "He won't really hurt her, will he?" she asked worriedly. "Perhaps we should phone Dr. Madchen."

Daniel shook his head. "Madchen can't control her. I don't think he even tries. He's let her run wild ever since they arrived in Sedikhan three years ago. Philip is the only one she'll obey." He shrugged. "Sometimes."

He slipped to the ground and reached up to place

his big hands on her waist and swing her down. "Come on, I'll take you back to the house. You've seen enough for one day. Tomorrow, if you're stronger, I'll take you for a short ride."

Her troubled gaze returned to the tiny girl on the huge horse. "But I don't think ..."

He tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. "Philip won't hurt her. He's very decent to her really. He gives her the run of the stables. He lets her trail around after him all over the estate. He's even made sure that she can't come to any harm while running wild in the village." His lips tightened. "But Oedipus is still half wild and too damn strong for her. Philip knows that and he's not about to let her kill herself. In spite of what you think of him, Philip has a hell of a lot of good points. He's honest and scrupulously fair. It may amuse him to act the playboy on occasion, but he also works as hard as any man I've ever met. He's no profligate ruler taking everything from his country and putting nothing back. He's poured millions into that irrigation project, trying to reclaim farmland from the desert. Education and per capita income have soared here since Philip inherited the sheikhdom." He lifted her easily into his arms. "So don't worry about Pandora. Philip isn't going to tie her to a fence post and beat her with a whip. She certainly doesn't need you to mother her. She wouldn't appreciate your interference."

Zilah instantly nestled closer as he carried her swiftly through the stableyard. "She shouldn't be allowed to run wild. It's dangerous for her. Things happen. . . ."

She felt his arms tighten around her for the briefest instant. "Nothing is going to happen to Pandora," he said gently. "She's under Philip's protection." He brushed the lightest of kisses on the top of her head. "And nothing will happen to you either.

I'll take care of that. Now, just relax and let me get you back to your room. I think you should try to take a nap. I'll wake you for dinner."

"I didn't get to see inside the stables." It was merely a token protest. She was suddenly feeling maddeningly weak, utterly sapped of strength.

"I've never seen a woman so fascinated by four-footed creatures. I never thought I'd be forced on the back of a horse to play guardian angel to a horse-crazy cowgirl."

She glanced up in surprise. "You don't ride?"

He shook his head. "There are some people who don't, you know," he told her solemnly. "I realize it's hard for centaurs like you and Philip to understand, but there are a few of us who even prefer it that way. The last animal I rode was the orneriest mule ever begat on the face of the earth. I was forced to suffer excruciatingly for an entire two-week trip through the Andes." He glared down at her with mock ferocity. "Why the devil are you giggling, you heartless woman? It was a very traumatic experience."

"I'm sure it was." She chuckled. "Don't worry, riding a horse is much more pleasant. I'll teach you. It will be fun, you'll see."

"Will it?" he asked gloomily. "I couldn't persuade you to recuperate on a nice peaceful cruise around the Mediterranean, I suppose. I have a yacht anchored at the harbor at Marasef, and I assure you that I'm much better at riding the waves than I ever will be a horse."

"Don't be a defeatist," she said with a grin. You'll be an expert in no time. It's much easier than captaining a ship or blowing up airplanes. Besides, I think I like the idea of being in charge for a change. It's rather nice to know that you're not the master of quite all you survey. "

His expression became grave. "Where the hell did

you get an idea like that? I don't pretend to be any kind of superbrain. I learn things fairly quickly and my lifestyle has provided me with a variety of skills, but you're probably far better educated than I am." He shrugged. "Hell, I didn't even get my college degree until I retired a couple of years ago. There are probably any number of things you can teach me." He smiled down at her. "And maybe a few I can teach you. It will be interesting to find out anyway, won't it?"

"Yes, I think it will," she said softly. He actually believed that, she realized with a touch of incredulity. He didn't realize how very extraordinary a man he was. He possessed humor, intelligence, and a dogged determination that would always enable him to move mountains. Yet he honestly believed there was nothing unusual about him. "I understand that's a big part of what friendship is all about." She tried to hide the pang of tenderness she was feeling as she nestled nearer to him and closed her eyes. She could hear the throb of his heart more clearly when she shut out the rest of the world. Such a strong vital sound. Just like Daniel himself.

When Zilah opened her eyes she experienced a momentary disorientation that brought her heart leaping to her throat. The slight figure lounging in the wing chair by her bed was totally unfamiliar, and the dusk that pervaded the room threw that stranger into shadow. Dear God, how she hated those shadows. Not this time! Without thinking she scrambled to her knees on the bed, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "No! Go away."

The slender shadow figure froze in surprise; the trousered leg flung over one arm of the chair halted its lazy swinging. "I can't. Philip won't let me." The hoarse voice was indignant. "It's not that I want to be here, blast it."

"Philip?" Zilah shook her head to clear it, and the shadows of the past disappeared into the mists. Philip El Kabbar. Daniel. "Who are you?"

"Pandora Madchen." The boyish figure straightened in the chair, stretching her booted legs out before her and crossing them at the ankle. Scornful defiance breathed out of every pore. "I'm your new maid," she drawled. "Ma'am."

"My new maid?" Zilah asked blankly. "I've never had an old one. What will I do with you?"

The girl shrugged. "Search me. That's up to you. Scrub your back, brush your hair, junk like that. You're my punishment."

"Punishment?"

"For taking out Oedipus. Philip was mad as hell."

"Yes, he was," Zilah said. "I was there when you took the fence. It was a beautiful jump."

"I've made better," Pandora said. "I saw you on the fence with Philip and Daniel. Which one are you sleeping with?"

"What?"

There was an odd tenseness to the girl's silhouette. "I asked if you were sleeping with Philip. Are you?"

"No. Not that it's any of your business. I just met Sheikh El Kabbar this morning."

The tenseness left the younger girl's body. "I didn't think so." She was obviously trying to keep the relief from her tone. "He wouldn't have assigned me to you if he'd wanted to keep you happy. He knew I'd probably make your life hell on earth. Is he mad at you or something?"

"Let's just say that he doesn't approve of me." Good heavens, the child was incredible. Amusement was rapidly replacing the resentment that had been

Zilah's first reaction. There was a touching childishness beneath Pandora's bravado that reached out to her.

"That's because you're beautiful," Pandora said flatly. "He sleeps with beautiful women but he doesn't like them." She paused before adding with a touch of defiance, "I'm not pretty, but he likes me. He's never said so, but I know he does."

"I'm sure he does," Zilah said gently. "He was very concerned about your safety before you made that jump."

"He was?" The eagerness in the question was naked before Pandora masked it with an offhand shrug. "That's because we're friends. He saved my life, you know."

"No, I didn't know." Zilah brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and settled herself more comfortably against the headboard. She wished there was more light in the room. She'd like to get a better look at this wild child who was intriguing her more every minute.

Pandora nodded. "It was in the first month after I came here with my father. There were some men in the bazaar who were trying to hurt me just because I let loose all the doves in the cages at their stall." She shivered. "They had knives. Philip saved my life. Then he spanked me." Her hand reached up to her throat and she pulled out a gold chain with a round medallion that caught and held the dwindling light in the room. "And then he gave me this."

"A present? That was very kind of him."

"It's not a present," Pandora said indignantly. "It's the sword and the rose. It shows that I belong to him. He said so."

So that was what Daniel meant by Philip extending his protection over the child. "Then he must value you very much."

Pandora lifted her chin. "He does value me. I told you that we were friends. Just because he punishes me now and then doesn't mean he's really angry. He wouldn't bother at all if he didn't like me."

And it was evident Pandora's mischief-making was at least partially a ploy to attract the sheikh's attention in the only way she knew how. It was clear she adored the man far more than he deserved. "Well, I can't say that I like being looked upon as a punishment by your hero," Zilah said dryly. "Nor having you inflicted on me as one either. I don't need a maid and you don't want to be one, so why don't we just call it quits?"

"Are you afraid of me?" There was a note of speculation in Pandora's tone. "You certainly were spooked when you first woke up."

"No," Zilah answered quickly. "Sometimes I have nightmares. I must have been dreaming, and seeing you sitting there startled me."

"I was glad I scared you," Pandora said with the honesty of a child. "I thought it wouldn't hurt to get the upper hand right away since we were going to have to spend some time together."

"But we don't have to spend time together. I'll just tell Sheikh El Kabbar that—"

"It wouldn't do any good," Pandora interrupted with an imperious wave of her right arm. "Philip doesn't change his mind, not ever."

Something dark and liquid had splashed on the polished white of the mosaic-tile floor when Pandora gestured. Zilah stared at it a moment before she realized what that liquid was.

"You're bleeding!" she said, shocked. "What's wrong with your arm?"

Pandora shrank back farther in the shadows of the wing chair. "Nothing. I scratched it a little."

"Haven't you bandaged it?"

"It isn't serious. I haven't gotten around to it yet."

"If it's bleeding that freely, it should be attended to. Shall 1 phone your father?"

"No!" Pandora snapped. "It would only make him angry with me again: I told you it wasn't serious."

"If you don't want me to notify your father, then at least let me bandage it." Zilah got out of bed and pulled the girl to her feet. "Come on, I'm not so bad at first aid. I used to help Jess doctor the livestock on the ranch."

"You lived on a ranch?" Surprise made Pandora docile as Zilah led her toward the bathroom. "You don't look like a rancher. You're as beautiful as any of Philip's Khadims."

"And good looks aren't allowed in any other profession?" Zilah asked. "I assure you it doesn't get in the way at all. I ride herd on the cattle, brand, mend fences, and I'm a pretty fair horsewoman myself. Not as good as you, but I've won a few blue ribbons in the local horse shows." She chuckled. "And they were far more concerned about my skill at dressage than whether my teeth were prettier than the horse's."

"I'm not terrific at dressage," Pandora said absently. "I'm better at jumping, but I'm working on it. What kind of horse—" They had reached the bathroom door and she broke off. She pulled to a stop. "No, my arm's fine. I don't want to go in there."

"Nonsense," Zilah said. "It will take only a minute." She reached for the doorknob.

Pandora pushed her aside and stepped in front of it. "Then I think I'd better go in first."

"Why on earth?" Zilah asked, puzzled.

There was an indecisive silence before Pandora muttered, "There's a tiger in your bathtub."

"What!"

"It's only a little tiger," Pandora said hurriedly. "Just a cub really. I was keeping it in the stable, but I couldn't leave him there with no one to take care of him. Horses get nervous around cats, and someone would have been sure to discover him."

"So you put him in my bathtub." Zilah's voice was dazed. "Did you think I wouldn't find him? I assure you I use the bathroom with moderate frequency."

"It was all I could think of," Pandora said. "I couldn't let those poachers get hold of him again."

"What poachers? Why do I feel I've entered the twilight zone?"

"Oh, do you watch 'Twilight Zone'?" Philip has all the episodes on video cassettes. They're very interesting, aren't—"

"Pandora," Zilah interrupted, pronouncing each syllable very distinctly. "I'm not interested in Philip's passion for 'Twilight Zone.' What poachers?"

"There were some poachers in the bazaar last week. Philip wouldn't have stood for it, but they move around from place to place and sometimes he doesn't know. They had the skins of a few adult tigers and they had penned up Androcles in a cage. I guess they were waiting until he was older before they butchered him. So I waited until dark that night and then sneaked in and stole him."

"You stole a tiger?" Zilah asked faintly. "That must have been interesting."

"I get along with animals," Pandora said simply. They trust me."

"Is that scratch on your arm from your friend Androcles? If so, I wouldn't say that demonstrated a high degree of friendliness."

"You couldn't expect him not to be frightened. I had to smuggle him into the house under a coat. Naturally, he clawed me a little."

"Naturally," Zilah echoed, shaking her head in wonder.

"Are you going to tell Philip?" Pandora asked tensely. She raised her chin. "Not that he'd care. He likes me better than he does you."

"That wouldn't be difficult," Zilah said dryly. "And I haven't decided yet what I'm going to do. Suppose we take a look at your friend Androcles and see just how much of a danger he is." She wouldn't be surprised to see a full-grown tiger in the bathroom. Or, for that matter, to see nothing at all. It could be an elaborate joke. She was beginning to believe anything could be possible with Pandora Madchen.

It wasn't a joke.

The tiger cub was curled up fast asleep on a bath towel in the center of the pink and ivory sunken tub. When Zilah flipped on the light, he opened one sleepy eye and then rolled over on his side.

"Isn't he cute?" Pandora asked. "Just like a big pussycat."

"Adorable." At least he wasn't full-grown as Zilah had half feared. He was rather sweet. "However, he doesn't seem to have a very developed sense of self-preservation. I think he's gone back to sleep already."

"Animals sense things. He knows we wouldn't hurt him. Can we keep him?"

"Pandora, this isn't like those doves you let out of their cages," Zilah said. "This charming little pussy cat is going to grow up to be a dangerous animal. How could you—" Her glance moved from the tiger cub to the face of the girl beside her. "Good heavens, you're gorgeousl I thought you said you weren't pretty."

"I'm not pretty," Pandora said fiercely. "I'm straight as a stick and I have horrible hair. And," she added triumphantly, "I have freckles."

She did have freckles. A golden dusting across the bridge of a small, perfect nose in a face with the most beautifully classic bone structure Zilah had ever seen. Huge midnight-dark eyes were surrounded by lashes of equal darkness. The   horrible hair was chopped rather than cut into a boyish style this looked like it had been caught in an eggbeater.  Still, the color and texture were magnificient.  It was a shade of blond that was close to silver and it caught and reflected all the light in the room. She did lack curves, but she was as fine-boned and athletically graceful as the tiger cub in the bathtub. Good heavens, if she was this beautiful at fifteen, she would be unbelievable at twenty. Yet her denial of that beauty held a puzzling element of desperation. Then the light dawned. Philip El Kabbar didn't like or trust beautiful women, according to Pandora. Therefore Pandora refused to be beautiful.

"My mistake," Zilah said solemnly. "I didn't notice the freckles."

"Well, the light is pretty bad in here," Pandora conceded. She pointed to the tiger cub. "I know I can't keep him indefinitely. He'll have to be sent to a wildlife reserve, but I thought it wouldn't hurt to keep him for a little while." Her expression took on a poignant wistfulness. "I've never had a pet before. We always moved around too much before we came here. I thought just for a little while ..."

Zilah felt a melting helplessness that boded no good for her common sense. "Well, perhaps for a day or so it wouldn't do any harm," she said reluctantly. "I probably wouldn't be using the tub anyway. I usually prefer to take a shower." She suddenly ran her hand distractedly through her hair. "Oh, Lord, what am I saying? I think I've just accepted a tiger as a roommate."

"I think so too." Pandora'a grin lit her face with breathless beauty. "You can't back out now. It will be fine. I'll make sure he doesn't get in your way and I'll do all the cleaning myself. I'll keep all the servants out of your room and get a couple of blankets and bunk in here with him during the night. Philip assigned me a guest room next door but it doesn't have a tub like this or I would have kept Androcles in there. He won't be any trouble at all."

"I'll believe it when I see it." Zilah made a face. "Now, let me look at your arm and see what your harmless little pussy cat has done to you."

Pandora silently held her right arm out. There was a hand towel tied around her forearm in a makeshift bandage. When Zilah removed it she inhaled sharply. There were several deep claw marks on the girl's thin arm, three of which were still bleeding. Zilah shook her head. "Just a little scratch," she murmured caustically as she slid back the mirror above the vanity to reveal a medicine chest. "You should have disinfected those claw marks right away. For a doctor's daughter you're very ignorant of primary first aid."

"My father and I don't get along very well. He never got around to teaching me much about anything," Pandora said with a shrug. "He's never liked me."

"Sometimes it's difficult to tell if someone likes you or not," Zilah said gently as she took a roll of gauze and a bottle of antiseptic from the shelf and closed the sliding mirrored doors. "People aren't always easy to read."

"I can tell," Pandora said fiercely. Her eyes lowered to watch Zilah carefully wash the scratches. "It doesn't matter. I don't care anyway."

Zilah opened the antiseptic. "This will sting."

Pandora inhaled sharply but made no other indication of pain as Zilah applied the antiseptic to the raw wound. Her dark eyes were narrowed intently on Zilah's face. "You like me. I can tell that too."

"Yes, I like you." Zilah looked up from winding the gauze about Pandora's thin, wiry arm. "Which

only goes to prove I have temporary attacks of insanity. I have an idea you're going to bring me nothing but trouble."

"I like you too," Pandora said awkwardly. "At first, I thought you were pretty flighty. But you're not afraid of tiger cubs, or blood, or even Philip. The only thing you're afraid of are those nightmares."

"I imagine you could dredge up a few more things that I'm nervous about." Zilah stepped back after taping the gauze bandage firmly in place. "If those wounds start to fester, we'll have to go to your father for antibiotics."

"We'll see," Pandora said noncommittally. "It will probably heal all right. I'm pretty tough."

With a streak of vulnerability a mile wide, Zilah thought. "I'll change the dressing every day until we see how it's doing," she said firmly as she opened the mirrored panel and replaced the first aid materials on the shelf. "I'm pretty tough too." Then, as if to belie the statement, she suddenly swayed and had to grab the counter of the vanity to keep from falling. "Oh, damn!"

Pandora's arm was swiftly around her waist, steadying her. "What's wrong?" Her brow was creased in a troubled frown. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Zilah said, taking a deep breath. "I guess I've been on my feet too long. I forgot all about being a convalescent for a little while." She made a face. "Unfortunately, nature has a way of reminding you. I was stung by a scorpion yesterday morning and I can't seem to get my strength back."

"I didn't know you'd been ill." Pandora's face was stricken. "Come on, I'll help you get back to bed." Pandora's grip was surprisingly strong for so slight a girl and she was almost lifting instead of supporting Zilah as she whisked her across the room. "You should have told me. Don't worry, I'll take care of you. Is that why Philip wanted me to act as your maid?"